Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Gambia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing This Heat to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Smoke,
The Searchers,
Quando Quango,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Coltrane,
Neu!,
Fatback Band,
The Selecter,
Minny Pops,
The Martian,
Barry Ungar,
Surgeon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Moon,
DNA,
cv313,
The Seeds,
June Days,
Pulsallama,
Bob Dylan,
Quantec,
Angry Samoans,
Pagans,
Avey Tare,
U.S. Maple,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Skriet,
Ken Boothe,
The Doors,
Bobby Byrd,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Neon Judgement,
Thompson Twins,
Funkadelic,
The Index,
the Sonics,
Mandrill,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Spoonie Gee,
Michelle Simonal,
Aaron Thompson,
Interpol,
Gong,
Minutemen,
The Last Poets,
Banda Bassotti,
Parry Music,
X-102,
The Moody Blues,
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
Adolescents,
R.M.O.,
Absolute Body Control,
The Red Krayola,
The Grass Roots,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Music Machine,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.